I Wanna Walk Like You
by chiefraz
Summary: From SaiyukiRequiem, a Dougon POV. All he wanted to be was loved, is that so wrong? Many thanks to Terror Cotta who did more then beta


I Wanna Walk Like You

By

Chiefraz and TerrorCotta

The looks were subtle, secretive and almost invisible unless you knew what you were looking for, which of course Dougon did. When it came to his master, the hyper little priest was fairly fluent in the body language of Genjo Sanzo.

Dougonwould greedily drink in the sight of hismaster as the man wouldsometimes tip his head most fetchingly, a lock of golden hair wouldslide over his brow to curtainthoseviolet eyes, orwhen seemingly deep in thought,Sanzo wouldlet his headloll back,exposinga willowy curve of ivory fleshedthroat. The beauty of the gesturesstruck Dougon dumb and blind to any thoughtsother then the sudden rise in temperaturethat threatened to sendhim swooningwith the vapers.So one day, in a momentof clarity, hemade up his mind to find ifthese seemingly randompreenings were meant for him (a naive hope if there ever was one) some one else or simply gestures he was reading way too much into. Had there been a grade for 'The care and feeding of Genjo Sanzo 101' the young priest would have gotten a B-. "Good general knowledge but lacking in details, eager and enthusiastic but doesn't play well with others."

It took time and diligence but with enough observation and note taking, the source of his blonde masters' attraction appeared and it appalled him. Disgusted through to his utter-most fiber (the lack there of could have explained the mental constipation), Dougon was sick with confusion and jealousy, yet fascinated in the odd perversion; Gojyo the gambler, the red headed he-whore and half breed abomination seemed to spark the flame of the 31st Select of Heaven.

Had it been the murder Cho Gonou, he would have understood. That was a stroke of divine mercy as the Three Aspects would have preordained the union into being. Or even, and here Dougon gritted his teeth, that bottomless pit with legs that never left his darling Sanzos side, Son Goku. The monkey boy seemed adoring and pliant, or as the other priests implied with snickering and crude innuendoes just that-'in your end-o. Har, har, har.

But no, it was Sha Gojyo. A creature who's swagger carried a slouch of laid back sexual ease, hips thrust forward, as if letting his dick lead like a boxers chin ready to take it on the kisser, and whose lazy, half lidded gaze peeled the clothes from everyone in mental strip tease. Everyone this is except Dougon, for whom another look was reserved. "You wanna move out of the way Twerp?" The look seemed to say, "I gotta peel me some Sanzo."

The only saving grace to this whole meshuggener was that neither parties seemed to realize the other was interested. Thank Buddha for small favors.

So when it came to pass when his Master denied him a place at his side on the next assignment from the Aspects, the message and messenger were less then tactful, "it's not going to happen…" Dougons' heart and pride felt its greatest wound.

"But you're going to take Goku…."

"I don't have to protect him."

"But you've sent Cho Hakkai on temple business." Dougons' voice took on a whiney note.

"He was there and strong enough to care for himself."

"And Sha Goyjo?" He watched his masters face with special care.

Only just the slightest pause, 'that Asshole was extra muscle along for the ride." Sanzo suddenly found his hated paper work far more interesting signaling an end to the interview.

"Weak, he thinks I'm weak," became the mantra that ate and warped at Dougons mind as his feet dragged on the flagstones outside the high priests office door.

In mounting envy, he watched his Master defy convention and walk with sinners instead of the saintly, preferring to be counted in their number. The defining incident coming when his Sanzo forsook his official duties, clearing his bureaucratic slate with nothing more then a wave and scowl for an eight hour lunch date with….with….THOSE THREE…..SON OF A BITCH!

In a scene reminiscent of Scarlet O'Hara with a fist clenched in the soil of Tara, Dougon then and there swore never to know the hunger of social starvation ever again and that HE would never be last, passed over or unloved ever again! To work harder, become stronger in body, mind and spirit, he would show such undying loyalty, savagery and single mind ness of purpose that Master Sanzo would welcome him at his right hand with never a thought of excluding him from anything. A relationship that would reap gain both in the public and private sectors. Wink, wink, nudge, nudge.

But most of all, Dougon desided, he would become cool. A crazy, sexy kinda cool that would attract a certain blonde someone. He even pictured how he'd look, the whole ensemble right down to the zipper on the black leather jumpsuit: red hair, a killer walk, the whole loner/outcast/bad boy pouty image thatoozed phermones in a James Dean-Elvis-Goyjocombo(with a side of fries andlarge slurpie)thatwould be his even if it killed him and everyone else to get it.


End file.
